Grilled Cheese
by SabbyStarlight
Summary: They all had their specialties. Charlie had sauce night, Johnny had his pancakes, and Mike? Mike Warren made a mean grilled cheese. Set after Hand of Glory. The aftermath and the Pike scene we all need but know we won't get.


**This is my first ever attempt at writing Graceland fanfiction. I've wanted to try for a while and Hand of Glory finally convinced me I needed to. So here's the Pike scene that we all need but know we aren't going to get. I love the show so much, please don't forget to leave a review and let me know what you thought! Enjoy!**

They all had their specialties. Charlie had sauce night, Johnny had his pancakes, and Mike? Mike Warren made a mean grilled cheese. Set after Hand of Glory. The aftermath and the Pike scene we all need but know we won't get.

She had killed him. Sure, she was an agent, they all were. They didn't need the lectures on it being self defense. On how she had no choice. On how he was going to kill her if she hadn't taken matters into her own hands. But she had killed him. The line between right and wrong was becoming more and more blurred and Paige wasn't sure when being the good guys went from putting the bad guys behind bars to putting them in the ground.

She would never forget the look on their faces when they walked in and saw her. Tears running down her face, her pretty white dress covered in blood, his body, broken at her feet. Briggs had jumped into action first, walking over to the body, checking for a life that they all knew he wouldn't find. Mike had been close behind, slowly walking towards her, keeping eye contact at all times. Placing his hands, warm and steady, on her trembling shoulders. Gently taking the razor blade out of her hand and passing it to Briggs.

She tore her eyes away from Mike's to find Johnny bounding down the stairs, carrying a dark blue towel. "Shower's running, grabbed some clothes and put in there for ya too. Mikey? You got her from here?" Johnny asked, handing him the towel, which he had used to start wiping the worst of the blood from Paige's skin, to Mike.

"What about…" Mike began but Briggs interrupted him. "John and I have this. You take care of Paige." A silent nod from Mike and one hand was on the small of her back, the other staying on her shoulder and he was guiding her up the stairs. They made it to the bathroom where thanks to Johnny's quick thinking, the mirror was already covered in steam. Mike's eyes met her's again. "How badly are you hurt?"

"I'm fine." She whispered. Not quite trusting her voice yet. "He, he was choking me. I didn't know what else to do." She looked down at the floor. "He was really going to kill me." Her voice broke off into a sob and Mike pulled her into his chest, his shirt dampening from both tears and blood.

They stayed in that embrace for a few more moments, until Paige got herself back under control, took a deep breath, and pulled away from Mike's arms. "Really. I'm okay. I just wanna take a shower and crash for the night." She tugged the red stained fabric away from where it clung to the skin of her chest.

Mike reach out a hand, wanting to tuck on of the curls falling from her updo behind her ear, but fought the urge. She'd had her fill of physical contact for the night and he didn't want to cross a line. Didn't want to make things any worse for her than they already were.

"I'll be right outside, okay? Just yell if you need anything. Right outside." He told her.

"Yeah," she answered. "Thanks."

Mike shot her a small smile and nodded as he pulled the bathroom door closed behind him.

Later that night, after Briggs and Johnny had cleaned up the living room, Mike had made sure that Paige was safely in bed for the night, and Jakes and Charlie had been called (they were on the next flight in) Mike lay in his bed, staring up at the ceiling, sleep the farthest thing from his mind. "What the hell." He whispered to the empty room, flipping back the blankets and climbing out of bed.

Silently, he made his way down the hallway until he was outside of Paige's room. He had hoped to find her room quiet, lights off, and her asleep. Instead though, there was a sliver of light coming from underneath her door and music softly playing. He raised his hand and softly knocked.

"It's open." Her voice answered almost immediately.

"Hey," Mike started, standing awkwardly in her doorway. "Can't sleep?" He wasn't sure why he even asked. Obviously she couldn't sleep.

Paige didn't even turn her head to look at him, let alone offer a response.

He stared at her, sitting on her window sill staring out at the ocean. She looked so tiny in a pair of leggings and a sweatshirt that was so big it was falling off both her shoulders. Wet hair plaited into two braids that hung down either side of her face, head resting on drawn up knees.

Suddenly, Mike had an idea. "Hey."

"You said that already." Her voice was monotone. Mike would have used the term lifeless to describe it if it hadn't been such bad timing.

"Do you remember my first sauce night?" He asked her, walking across the room and sitting down next to her by the window.

She turned her head, making eye contact. _Progress_ Mike thought. "Remember, I pretty much had a total breakdown doing the dishes?"

Realization dawned in her eyes. "Yeah."

"You helped me. Big time." Mike thought he saw a ghost of a smile pass over her lips so he continued. "You didn't have to, but you got me through that night. I'm not sure if I ever even told you how much that meant to me. So." He stood up, holding out an opened hand, hoping. "So now I'm going to help you. I just need you to trust me. Just for tonight."

Her eyes flitted from his hand to his eyes and back again. "Sex isn't the answer to everything, Mike. That's Johnny's solution." Mike snorted back a laugh. "I actually wasn't offering this time."

Now he had her attention. She raised an eyebrow but looking back at his face, so eager to help, she sighed and placed her hand in his.

Mike's face curved into an actual smile, his fingers closing around her's, and he lead her down the hall, down the stairs, carefully avoided the living room with it's now missing rug, and into the kitchen.

"Have a seat." Mike told her, letting go of her hand and turning to the fridge.

"You come and drag me out of my room in the middle of the night for a midnight snack?" She asked incredulously.

Mike's smile was hid by the refrigerator door. "Something like that…" When he turned around, a couple blocks of cheese and a stick of butter in his hand, Paige had taken up her normal spot on the kitchen counter.

"When I was a kid," Mike began as he found a loaf of bread and a skillet. "I would stay with my Grandfather a lot." He dug through the kitchen drawers, moving Paige's legs out of the way to get to the cheese grater in the drawer behind her and attacked the block of cheddar. "He was a total insomniac, could never just go to bed and fall asleep." Once he had a huge pile of cheese on the counter he moved on to buttering four slices of bread. "He would wake me up in the middle of the night, accidentally of course, banging around in the kitchen."

"Making grilled cheese?" Paige asked.

"Making grilled cheese." Mike confirmed with a nostalgic smile. "I have no clue why, but that was always his solution. He swore it fixed anything, but insomnia most of all."

Paige found herself smilng too, Mr. Perfect Special Agent Mike Warren, bustling around the kitchen at 3 am, professionally slapping buttered bread into a hot skillet. "He taught you?" She asked, not wanting the easiness of this moment to end.

"Yeah. When I was seven." He added the cheese now, handfuls of it piled on top of the steaming bread. "Not exactly the most important thing he taught me, but it's come in handy." The top slices of bread were added and Paige watched entranced as Mike flipped the sandwiches, revealing perfectly browned bread and cheese beginning to melt.

"Here's the secret," He told her, noticing how she was watching his every move. "You turn the heat off on the second side, just leave the pan on the hot burner, and you cover it. Steam gets trapped, melts the cheese perfectly, and the residual heat finishes toasting the underside." He shuffled his bair feet across the kitchen floor, finding a knife and two plates. By the time he made it back to the stove the sandwiches were done.

"Crust or no crust?" Mike asked.

"Crust off." Paige said with a smile.

"Good girl." He teased. He removed the crusts, sliced each sandwich in half, diagonally of course, and handed one of the plates to Paige. He leaned up against the counter across from her, watching her take her first bite.

"It's pretty much perfect." She told him, going in for another bite.

"I told you," Mike mumbled around a mouthful of cheese and bread. They sat there, Paige perched on the counter, Mike leaning against the island, each eating their sandwiches in silence. Unlike the past few times they had been alone together, it wasn't awkward. It felt, right.

Once they each held an empty plate in their hands Paige looked over at Mike. "You think we should see if it works? If these magic sandwiches help make you fall asleep?"

"Sure." Mike answered, setting his plate on the counter beside Paige's and putting his hands on either side of her waist, helping her jump off the counter.

They made their way back upstairs but when Mike stopped to drop her off at her door she looked up at him, and her eyes, half hidden behind her lashes, looked almost shy. "You could stay. If you wanted. Just, ya know, nothing has to happen. Just…"

"Of course." He stepped around her and opened her door. Holding it open for her and walking over to the bed, that obviously hadn't been touched that night, and turned down the covers.

That was the first night that they slept together without ever actually sleeping together. Mike on his back, Paige's head on his chest. His arms wrapped around her, protecting her.

The next morning Mike woke up, Paige still on his chest, asleep. He watched her, wishing that he could protect, her from everything. Wishing that things hadn't gotten so screwed up between them. Hoping with what little bit of faith in the universe he had left that last night had fixed them, just a little bit. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't notice Paige, awake, looking back at him.

Before either of them could think of something to say though, Jakes's voice boomed through the house. "What in the HELL happened tothis kitchen!? How's a man supposed to make himself some damn eggs in this mess!? Johnny! This has your name written all over it, my friend! I want it cleaned up. NOW!"

Mike and Paige both burst out laughing, trying to be as quiet as possible but it wasn't easy. She just buried her head in Mike's chest and allowed herself to relax. Yesterday had been horrible, one of the worst days she'd had in a really long time. But today, today was a new day, and she was home. And this time, home was a person, not a house.

 **I'm not really sure where this came from. Or where it went. But I hope you enjoyed anyway! Let me know what you thought!**


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